


Let There Be Love

by CheynneT



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-29 02:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheynneT/pseuds/CheynneT
Summary: I feel it’s time to put a little heat under Patsy and Delia, don’t you? ….. Not too much, mind you, we don’t want to turn it into ‘Patsy and Delia’ porn….or maybe we do but that’s for another story. This one contains unabashed romance between our favourite OTP because they’ve been apart for too long and need to make up for lost time.  I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter of a two chapter story.

 Their lips parted and their arms that had embraced fell once more to their sides. With the ease of forced practice, the two women assumed the façade of mere friendship as they must, as they moved back into the public eye, lest they risk having the wrath and judgement of the times fall upon them, although, beneath the surface, their excitement bubbled and their hearts near burst.. Delia picked up the suitcase Patsy had dropped when she had greeted her and together they strolled back towards the gaiety of Tom and Barbara’s wedding festivities which were now centred upon the brilliant lights and colourful splendour of the carousel, Tom’s surprise gift to his new wife.

Patsy and Delia joined the thinning crowd to watch from the sidelines as the gilded horses with their sleighs in tow, pranced around and around in slow, steady circles to the accompaniment of the piped music that played.  Aboard the carousel, their friends laughed and called out to one another in good cheer while flurries of snowflakes drifted down, settling on hats and coats, shoulders and hair, forming a powdery, white veil.

As they watched, Delia couldn’t help but wonder if it would ever be possible for her and Patsy to one day have such a celebration of their love for each other, one where friends and family would be invited, all of them unanimous in wishing them well. Was their love really less worthy than that of Tom and Barbara? Delia didn’t think so. Should her love be considered less valid simply because it was for another woman? She was convinced that in the real scheme of things it wasn't and, indeed, was equally deserving of a celebration rather than having to hide that love away as a shameful secret…. a secret shared only between themselves and others like them.

 Delia was drawn from her thoughts by a sudden shout from one of the carousel’s horses.

“Patsy! You’re back!”

Heads turned towards the pair.

“Pats!”

Patsy waved and smiled at her friends in response while they, in turn, signalled wildly and called out to the operator to stop the carousel. They needed to get off urgently.

As they waited with the impatience of young children for the rise and fall of their horses to come to a halt, the Sisters of Nonnatus House also spotted Patsy and immediately headed over to join her and Delia. Soon she was surrounded by those who, over the years, she had come to think of as family as they greeted her with warm words of welcome accompanied by hugs and handshakes.  

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Trixie exclaimed as she embraced Patsy for a second time, “it’s so absolutely fabulous to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back,” Patsy replied as she returned the affection.

Suddenly Trixie remembered the reason for Patsy’s departure and also for her return.

“Oh, Pats…. I’m so awfully sorry to hear about your father…. Are you alright?” Trixie added, her tone now more subdued as a concerned frown crossed her forehead.

“Thank you, Trix…. yes, I’m fine,” Patsy answered as she reached for Trixie’s hands and gave them a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “There was nothing the doctors or I could do in the end other than to make him as comfortable as possible and try to ease his pain as best we knew how…. His suffering is over now…. He’s in a better place…. I’m glad I was able to see him one last time but I’m also very happy to be home again.” Patsy turned and caught Delia’s eye, giving her a brief smile into which there was written a mountain of meaning.

While the Sisters and nurses of Nonnatus House welcomed their returned lamb back into the fold, Delia hung silently by Patsy’s side for the words she wished to say to her were for Patsy’s ears only. For now, she was content to merely be in her presence. Huddling deeper into her coat and burying her hands in its pockets to protect from the cold, Delia’s attention was taken once more by the liveliness of the carousel …. its bulbs blinking in the mirrors, the hypnotic motion of the horses as they danced gracefully, the music grinding out …. music that reminded Delia of village carnivals or church fair days back in Wales when she and her best friend, Catrin, would sneak at least one turn on every ride then search out the carnival kids to play with. They would show Delia and Catrin how to tumble and fall without hurting themselves or attempt to teach them how to juggle with skittles or brightly-coloured, Indian-rubber balls. It was all such fun. She also remembered the time when they were a bit older, Catrin had taken her by the hand and led her to a more secluded spot behind the tented stalls where she drew a surprised Delia into her arms and kissed her fully on the mouth. It was a clumsy, childish kiss but the thrill of it was as wonderful and exciting as the carnival itself.

As Delia stood there watching… thinking… she found she could breathe more freely as she filled her lungs to capacity with the crisp, life-giving air. Her heart, although beating a little faster, no longer ached as it had done for months now.  Like a magic elixir, elation and relief coursed through her veins allowing her to feel only happiness. Tomorrow morning, she would rise and it wouldn’t be necessary to pretend for the sake of others that her heart wasn’t breaking. During the midday meal where perhaps Trixie would discuss what to wear on her next date with Christopher or talk about Tom and Barbara’s wedding, that inevitable sadness that had come to dull her being would be gone. She would no longer need to fill her evenings either lying on her bed poring over Spanish love poems, her melancholy reflected in many of their verses or writing long, languid letters to Patsy, filling the pages with how much she missed her and how she yearned for them to be together again.... letters which, for the most part, remained folded away in a small, wooden box in her top drawer, unsent, for she knew Patsy had made the only choice possible and she had no desire to ply that difficult decision with the added layer of her loneliness. Then, in the unexpected blink of an eye, it all became a thing of the past. Patsy was back. She was standing by her side, her flesh and blood real and in her presence. It wasn’t just another of her wishful dreams.

Suddenly, the bright lights of the roundabout swam before her eyes as tiny moons set adrift; the horses, no longer confined to moving in circles, lifted up and appeared to gallop off into the evening sky. Despite the cold air, heat flushed her cheeks and she too felt as though she was floating, her head lighter than air.

It was as her knees began to buckle that Patsy sensed something was wrong and quickly flung an arm around Delia’s waist, keeping her from collapsing onto the cold, hard ground.

“Delia, what’s wrong?” Patsy asked, trying to keep the panic from her voice as is second nature to every good nurse.

Delia held on tightly to Patsy’s arm as she struggled to remain upright and conscious. She rested her forehead on Patsy’s shoulder to stop her head from spinning, hoping to bring the world back into focus.

“It’s nothing…. I’m just a little dizzy,” she managed to reply, “Give me a minute and I’ll be fine.”

Surrounded by nurses, there was no escaping instant medical attention. Trixie immediately removed a suede glove and put the back of her hand to Delia’s forehead.

“There’s no temperature……She doesn’t seem to have a fever.”

“I’m fine, really,” Delia protested gently, not wanting such a fuss. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast and it’s made me a little light headed, that’s all…. Once I have something to eat I’ll be as right as rain again.”

“Right, a hot cup of tea and some biscuits for you immediately…cream ones if you’re lucky,” Patsy ordered, her arm still around Delia’s waist for support. “Are you alright to walk?”

“Not if you’re offering to carry me,” Delia whispered with a playful smile, her faculties gradually coming back to her.

Patsy’s eyes glanced around at the people still milling about the street and the carousel.

“Not a chance, Busby,” she whispered back, “but seriously, are you alright to make it to Nonnatus House?”

“I think so but it’s probably best that you keep your arm around me…. for support…. just in case it strikes me again.”

oooOooo

Patsy and Delia walked the short distance across the street to the steps of Nonnatus House. The snow was falling more steadily now and by the morning it would be inches thick on every surface.

At the bottom of those all-too-familiar set of steps, Patsy halted and took a deep breath, the cold air entering her lungs and forcing a shiver.  Many weeks ago, she had left the work and the people she loved to be with her father, a man she had estranged all those years before, too afraid to face the grief that loving him and then losing him would cause. Death had already snatched her mother and her sister from her. The thought of losing another was too great and so she had closed her heart to him and yet, when the letter from Hong Kong had arrived informing her of his dreadful illness, she knew she had no choice but to face this thing that scared her most.  Unsure of what to expect or when she would return, she had booked a passage aboard a boat and gone to him.  Even as she arrived, his grip on life was tenuous but fortunately there had been enough time for her to make her peace with him while seeing to the task of easing his inescapable release from this world. It had been one of the most difficult things she’d ever had to do but she did it regardless, grateful, at least, for the opportunity to make amends…. and now she had returned.

Patsy went up those steps perhaps a little wiser than when she had left all those months ago. She had always thought that loving someone eventually brought nothing but grief and sadness, however, she understood now that this grief was also a reminder that one had been fortuitous enough to have loved in the first place. When the end does comes it seems a steep price to pay, nevertheless, after time has done its job and lessened the pain of such loss, the rewards that having loved gives you are usually worth it.

Patsy knew without doubt that it was love she felt for Delia but she also knew that it had been restrained by her overwhelming fear of loving too much and having her heart torn apart.  Now that she had faced that fear head on and made sense of it, she was determined that Delia should have the love she was so deserving of. It was as if her father’s parting gift to her was to take away the fear and worry of what might come, allowing her to truly love perhaps for the first time since losing her mother and sister.

The pair walked through the heavy door of Nonnatus House and into the kitchen where a fire that had been kept alive in the nearby fireplace filled the room with a comfortable warmth. Patsy dropped her bag beside the table and pulled out one of the chairs for Delia to rest on while she made the tea and sought out some biscuits but instead of taking up the offer of a seat, Delia tugged Patsy into her arms, reached up that short distance as she was used to doing, and placed her lips upon Patsy’s mouth, revelling in its familiar fullness. However, much to Delia’s disappointment, Patsy quickly pulled out of it.

“As much as I want to, Deels…..we can’t… not here.  We have to be careful,” she said as she stepped away a little, her voice hushed as though there might be someone peering around every corner. “We don’t want the others to smoke us out.”

Refusing to let anything or anyone put a dampener on her cheerfulness, Delia replied, “Well, you could say that I had fainted again and you were trying to resuscitate me.”

“But we’re standing up…. How do you suppose I explain that? Or should I lie you on the floor?”

“You could say you were trying a new method.”

“Nurse Busby, nobody is going to believe that load of old codswallop,” Patsy argued while trying to look suitably serious but unable to fight off the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Can I make a confession?” Delia asked as she dared to sneak closer.

“What?” Patsy held her at arm’s length knowing she may not be able to resist the temptation herself should she allow Delia any closer.

“I didn’t faint from hunger…”

“From what then? You’re not ill, are you?”

“No,” Delia quickly reassured her as she eased the worried frown from Patsy’s forehead with the gentle press of her fingertips. “I think it was simply the shock of seeing you again so unexpectedly…. I’ve missed you so much while we’ve been apart…. All those weeks with no word from you…”

“I was on the boat…”

Delia held both of Patsy’s hands in her own.

“I know that now but I didn’t then…. And then suddenly you turn up out of nowhere… I was so happy to see you… I couldn’t be happier…. It was such a surprise… but I was afraid it might all have been a dream and if I blinked or turned away for even the slightest second, when I looked back you wouldn’t be there…  but you were…. you really are back… I think perhaps I was a bit overwhelmed…that’s when I….“

After a quick check to make sure the coast was clear, Patsy wrapped the lovely Delia in her arms.

“I promise I’ll never leave you again…. I mean it, Deels.”

Not wanting to push their luck as they knew the other residents of Nonnatus House wouldn’t be too far away, they reluctantly moved out of the embrace, each one subtly brushing at the fat tears that had begun to roll down their cheeks.

“Pats…”

“Yes…?”

“There’s something I need far more urgently than food and a cup of tea at the moment…..”

Patsy gave her a puzzled look but rather than explain, Delia took Patsy’s hand and led her towards the staircase which went up to the lodgings, picking up the suitcase with her free hand on the way.

They walked past the room which Patsy had shared with Trixie before she’d left but was now presently taken by Nurse Dyer, then the next doorway which up until today, had been shared by Barbara and Nurse Crane. Now that Barbara was going to be living with Tom, it was most likely that this would be Patsy’s new abode. Finally, they came to Delia’s room. It was smaller than the others so she rather conveniently had it to herself. Delia quickly opened the door, dragged Patsy inside and just as quickly closed it, unceremoniously dumping the suitcase beside her chest of drawers as she did so.

Wasting no time now that they were safely out of sight, they were in each other’s arms resuming the kiss they had started in the kitchen. This time there was no pulling away. Instead, Delia felt Patsy’s fingers dip into her hair, pressing their lips together even more firmly until it hurt but it was a delicious, insatiable hurt. She felt Patsy’s tongue delve into her mouth, hot, sensuous and searching, like liquid fire, igniting her from the inside.

Eventually, breathless and with hearts still racing, their lips drew apart.

“Oh, Pats…..I missed you so much….I don’t know…..” Delia began but Patsy silenced her with a finger placed lightly across her lips as she noticed tears welling up once more in Delia’s eyes.

“I missed you too and I don’t ever want us to be apart again.”

Without any further words, Patsy slipped a hand under each shoulder of Delia’s coat and shimmied it from her arms before dropping it carelessly into a heap on the floor. Then, with a single fingertip, she traced along the ‘V’ of exposed skin created by the neckline of Delia’s dress. Her eyes followed the same path, mesmerised by the loveliness of what they saw. Her touch and the thought of what might follow sent a surge of amatory pleasure shooting through Delia’s entire body, culminating in a shiver of delight.

It was as Patsy leaned in to claim Delia’s lips once more that a sharp rap on the door flung them apart. Delia quickly picked up her coat from where it lay at her feet and slung it over her forearm then checked that all was in place before calling out, “Come in.”

Patsy placed herself on the side of Delia’s bed, striking what she hoped would pass for a casual pose.

It was Sister Julienne who poked her head around the door and then entered.

“Ah, I thought I might find you here, Nurse Mount.”

“Evening, Sister Julienne. Delia has been catching me up on the things I’ve missed while I’ve been away,” Patsy explained, throwing Delia a sly, sideways glance.

“How are you feeling now, Nurse Busby? I assume Nurse Mount has taken good care of you.”

Delia struggled with the smirk that threatened to break free, as she replied, “Yes, she has and I’m much better for it, thank you, Sister Julienne.”

“Good….. Nurse Mount, I’m just letting you know that you will be sharing a room with Nurse Crane now that Nurse Gilbert has vacated it. I’m afraid we had to give your previous room to Nurse Dyer as we were unsure of your return. I hope you are agreeable to that as it seems less disruptive for everyone that way.”

“That’s fine, Sister…..Thank you.”

“Also, I’ve instructed Nurse Crane to leave you off the rota until Monday so you can have a few days to recover from your trip and settle back in.”

“Thank you, Sister, but that really isn’t necessary. I can be ready to start tomorrow, if that would be useful…you’re a nurse down with Barbara gone on her honeymoon…”

“Take the time, Nurse Mount…I’ve looked at the schedules and we’re going through a quiet period at the moment…. But be sure that if we have an urgent need of an extra pair of hands that you will be called upon.”

“I’ll be ready, Sister.”

“Thank you, Nurse Mount. I’ll leave you now to settle in. Good night.”

“Night, Sister,” they chorused.

As the door closed, Delia collapsed on the bed beside Patsy, the pair of them trying in vain to stifle their laughter.

“Pats, what were you thinking saying that? I could have lost it completely!”

“Nurse Busby, I have no idea what you’re referring to,” Patsy replied, feigning complete innocence then, reluctantly rising from the bed, added, “I suppose I’d better go and unpack my suitcase. I’ll find the rest of my things in the morning. It should be interesting sharing a room with Phyllis.”

 Putting on a more serious face, Delia said, “I think she knows about us…or, at least suspects.”

“Phyllis? Really?” Patsy straightened up, suddenly wearing a look of concern. “How could she possibly know? Did she say something to you?”

“No, not directly but the evening you departed, we crossed each other in the hallway and I think she sensed my utter despair at your leaving…. She stopped me and quoted a poem…. ‘For the love of you, the air it hurts….”

Patsy’s expression turned to one of wide-eyed surprise.

“I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve read that same poem since that night…. Garcia Lorca…. Phyllis loaned me the book and her parting words were, ‘The pain it costs to love, I believe it is always worth it’…..”

Patsy shook her head in disbelief as though it was all too much to hope for that there was someone on their side.

“And then there were the times when we’d be sitting around talking, mostly about Barbara’s wedding preparations or the trials and tribulations of Trixie’s relationship with Christopher and I’d start to feel a bit blue about it all…. It was as though Phyllis knew and she would change the conversation to something else.”

With a smile of relief, Patsy said, “Good old, Phyllis. I always knew that behind that stern exterior there beats a heart full of compassion and understanding. It’s nice to know we have at least one ally but still, we can’t risk making a show of it in front of her or anybody else here.”

 Picking up her suitcase, Patsy made for the door.

“I’m going to quickly unpack and then I think I’ll fill the tub and have a soak if nobody objects…. After nearly a month on a boat, I need a good, long lounge in some hot water.”

“If you leave the door unlatched, I’ll change into something more relaxed and then bring you a drink and, if you’re lucky, I’ll sponge your back.”

“That would be lovely but don’t be too long…. I’d hate for one of the Sisters to walk in while I’m lying there in the ‘altogether’.”

“Ten minutes.”

“Good…. long enough for me to fill the tub…. Don’t forget that drink.”

oooOooo

At the sound of the light rap on the bathroom door, Pasty called out, “Who is it?”

“It’s your waitress, m’am….. I have your drink order.”

“Deels, come in…. I’d help you but I’m in the tub… the door isn’t latched… just give it a nudge.”

Delia, who was now in her pyjamas and holding a cocktail glass in each hand, pushed the door gently with her slippered toe and, as promised, it crept open just enough for her to enter. She then closed it in the same fashion before making her way over to where Patsy was lolling in a tub full of steamy, hot water.

“Tadah!”

Delia presented Patsy with her cocktail, adding the suitable flourish.

“What marvellous concoction are we drinking tonight?” Patsy asked as her dripping hand reached for the glass.

“Tonight, we are celebrating your return with a Manhattan…. Bourbon, dark vermouth, Grenadine, a splash of bitters and not one but two Maraschino cherries,” Delia announced as she went over to lock the door before pulling up a low, wooden stool and sitting beside the tub, her eyes now almost level with Patsy’s. “Classy but goes off like a grenade. Cheers!”

The two women raised their glasses before taking that first, careful sip then hummed with satisfaction as the heat of the fiery liquid spread throughout their bodies. Patsy rested her glass on the rim of the tub as she lay back, closed her eyes and took in its full effect. Delia, however, kept her eyes wide open. The effect of the drink was negligible compared to that of Patsy’s body lying languidly before her in all its naked glory …. The fullness of her breasts, dark pink at the tips; the long, shapely legs with that triangular patch of light-coloured curls nestled at their apex; the sensual curves of pale skin, like flawless porcelain, enticing Delia to smooth her hand over it. Delia didn’t think she had ever seen any woman look quite so glorious and this woman was all hers.

“Gosh!” Delia said out loud at the thought.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong…. It’s all very right, in fact… Don’t mind me…. I think this drink is going straight to my head.”

Patsy gave Delia a bemused smile and went back to sipping her cocktail. Delia too, sipped her drink albeit a little more slowly as she watched Pats take one of the Maraschino cherries from her cocktail glass and hold it up by the tip of the stalk. Her mouth surrounded the bright red fruit as her teeth nipped it from the stem and burst its flesh at which point another involuntary gasp escaped Delia’s lips before she could capture it, sending some of her drink down the wrong way which, in turn, made her cough and splutter.

“Deels, are you okay?”

Delia managed to nod amid a fit of coughing. Patsy sat up to check for herself.

 “You’d better take it easy with that drink, old girl,” Patsy said with a laugh and a wink, “you don’t want to get too tipsy.”

Delia put her glass on the floor in front of her stool while she regained her composure. After one or two more coughs, her throat had righted itself and she took the opportunity to suggest that Patsy should stay sitting up so she could wash her back for her. As requested, Patsy remained upright, bringing her knees up to her chest and leaning forward a little further, her forearms and chin resting on her knees, a position from which she was still able to sip her drink. Delia pushed up her sleeves as far as they would go, soaped up the washcloth then ran it diligently across Patsy’s shoulders and eventually her entire back, taking in the detail of every tiny ridge and valley as she did so.

Once Delia was finished, Patsy rested the almost empty cocktail glass on the shelf at the end of the tub then lay back once more, stretching almost to her full length so as to rinse off the soap. Delia was about to dip the cloth into the water again when Patsy gently but firmly took hold of her wrist with one hand and removed the cloth with the other. She then closed her eyes as she slowly guided Delia’s willing fingers over each of her breasts, pausing slightly at their hard tips, then along her stomach until finally coming to the fair curls below where she let Delia’s hand rest with her own hand over the top, applying an ever-so-slight pressure. Delia could feel her pulse racing and she was fairly certain Patsy could too. Her breathing had become short and sharp. Her sleeve was getting wet but she didn’t care. All she wanted to do was reach over to kiss Pats. It was only the thought of actually toppling into the tub that stopped her. Suddenly, as if to burst their bubble, there came a sharp knock on the door.

“Patsy, are you in there?”

Delia quickly ejected her hand from Patsy’s nether regions and stood up, almost knocking over the remains of her drink in the process. She pulled Patsy’s towel from the rail, dried her arms and rolled her sleeves back down, all the while, trying to stop her heart from pounding with panic.

“It’s alright. You locked the door….she can’t come in,” Patsy whispered to Delia in order to calm her then called out, “Yes, Trix.”

“Are you going to be long?” Trixie asked from the other side of the door, “it’s just that I’d like to clean my face and teeth before I go to bed, if I could.”

“I’ll be five minutes.”

“Wonderful. I’ll go and fetch my things.”

Delia had been about to make her way to the door when she remembered the two empty cocktail glasses. She collected them just as Patsy stepped out of the tub.

“I’d better get while the getting is good,” Delia said, probably more to convince herself she should go than anyone else as she watched Patsy wrap herself in a towel.

oooOooo

Like so many times in the past, while the rest of Nonnatus House slept, Patsy crept noiselessly into Delia’s room. There was so much they needed to talk about and catch up on, however, tonight would be about sating a more urgent need, that need each of them had to rediscover the intimacy they had shared as lovers before Patsy left. There would be plenty of time for conversation later.

Delia placed the magazine she had been attempting to distract herself with on the bedside table as Patsy crossed the threshold, shutting the door and turning the key in the lock behind her. On tiptoes, she quickly crossed the cold floor, knowing instinctively which squeaky floorboards to avoid and, on making it to the narrow bed, lay herself down beside Delia. There was a heavy hitch in Delia’s breathing as Patsy sidled closer, slipping an eager but cool hand beneath Delia’s top and cupping her breast. Without the need for any polite preamble, their mouths met, parted and met once more, each kiss becoming more demanding than the last as lips and tongues pressed ardently together in an effort to make up for the time they had lost.

Eventually, Patsy moved back a little so she had more convenient access to the buttons on Delia’s satin pyjama top but her usually-agile fingers fumbled in her haste to undo them. Forcing herself to slow down, Patsy finally freed the last of them. After a quick glance at the door to remind herself that she did actually lock it, Patsy parted the slippery fabric, dipped her head and placed cool, wet kisses in a trail from Delia’s collarbone, across her chest and along the swell and swale of each breast, pausing to entice each nipple to a firm bud with warm strokes of her tongue. Her hands, meanwhile, traced a path along the curve of Delia’s hip and over the roundness of her buttocks until finally coming to rest on that subtle mound between her thighs. Delia instinctively pressed forward to meet the touch of Patsy’s mouth and fingers.

Driven by a sense of rapidly increasing urgency and wanting better access, Patsy tugged on the cord that held Delia’s pyjama bottoms in place. The bow loosened and released, leaving her the job of slipping them from Delia’s legs, work made easier by the looseness of their fit and co-operation from Delia. Soon they were deposited in a crumpled heap somewhere beneath the blankets at the end of the bed.

As Patsy went to lower her head once more so she could put her lips to the soft flesh of Delia’s stomach, she felt Delia pull away slightly. She looked up at her in puzzlement.

“One of us is wearing too many clothes,” Delia declared in a whisper as she began to unbutton Patsy’s flannel pyjama top. Taking her cue, Patsy assisted by shrugging off the bottoms.

“Is that better?” Patsy asked once she was free of all impinging apparel.

“Much,” Delia replied in a breathless murmur as Patsy put an arm across her hip and they shifted close enough to feel the press of the other’s skin, warm and tantalising against their own, both women stifling a moan at the exquisiteness of the contact.

“Have I told you how glad I am to be home with you?” Patsy asked, her voice low as she gently coerced her partner onto her back, capturing Delia’s face in her doe-eyed gaze.

“Not for nearly an hour now,” Delia teased through a sharp intake of air, well conscious that Patsy’s fingers were now working their way over her stomach, causing a physical flutter in her chest and between her legs.

 As Patsy’s hand reached into the thatch of dark curls, Delia pushed back hard into her pillow, her eyes closed tight. On silent beckoning, her legs willingly parted allowing Patsy to lightly stroke the sensitive skin of her inner thigh before making her way to their apex where she gently parted the folds. Delia almost had to think to breathe as the thrill of every touch from Patsy’s fingertips completely enveloped her.

“Oh, Deels,” Patsy whispered as she fervently plied her lover’s neck with tiny kisses. There was so much she wanted to say to this woman but her words were lost in the struggle of emotions that were pouring through her as she dipped her fingers into the slippery commotion that was Delia’s sex.

Her fingertips moved in slow, searching circles to begin with, guided by the muted sighs and moans that drew from her touch. When the time seemed right, she narrowed in on the sensitive, swollen pearl that was Delia’s centre, her movements which were now becoming faster and firmer, were met by the force of Delia straining against her hand in unsteady syncopation.

Delia pushed back further into the pillow. One hand clutched the edge of the mattress while the other gripped a handful of glorious, red hair. Her back rose in an arc from the bed, her body taut like the string of an archer’s bow that, having been slowly and artfully drawn as far as possible, was finally…. mercifully…. released, sending its arrow soaring off into space. Delia’s arms flung around Patsy’s neck as she buried her face in its curve. It wouldn’t do to unsettle the silence of the house at this time of night with the sound of her cries.

They lay in a silent stillness for a minute or two, seemingly savouring the moment, until eventually their rigid pose loosened and they parted a little. They kissed…. soft, breathy kisses at first on cheeks, chin, eyes, forehead until their lips met again, forceful and impassioned. Hips began to nudge and strain. Bare breast pressed against bare breast.

Delia moved onto her side and slid a thigh between Patsy’s legs, revelling in the wetness she found there. As they fitted themselves neatly together, Delia could feel Patsy begin to push and rock against her, slowly at first but her pace steadily quickening as, push by push, she began to rapidly unravel. Her breath was coming in short, quick gasps until, with one final, forceful thrust, her body stiffened and she gave a cry which, as luck would have it, was captured by Delia in a kiss.

oooOooo

Patsy’s eyes shot open. She looked around, uncertain as to the cause of her alarm until she spied the clock on Delia’s bedside table. It was nearly 5am and here she was still in Delia’s bed, the two of them naked and tucked up tight. Patsy could tell from the gentle rise and fall of Delia’s chest that she was fast asleep.

Patsy hadn’t intended to stay the entire night. As always, the plan had been to rest a little, dress and then sneak back to her room but instead she had fallen asleep. If she didn’t get back in her own bed quick smart, Phyllis would be waking up and wondering where she was. Questions would be asked, assumptions possibly made and Patsy would be forced to fabricate an explanation. Patsy didn’t regret who or what she was. What she did regret were the occasions it became necessary to tell a lie or pretend that she was anything other than what she really was. She despised the dishonesty forced upon her for she wasn’t a dishonest person by nature, however, she was well aware of the consequences that telling the truth held.

Slowly, Patsy began to ease herself free but Delia caught her by the wrist.

“Don’t go yet,” Delia begged sleepily.

“Deels, it’s nearly 5 o’clock,” Patsy said in a low, urgent whisper, “Phyllis will be up and about soon and wondering where I spent the night.”

Resigned to the fact that Patsy was right, Delia let her grip slacken, a cold shiver running the length of her spine as Patsy rose from the bed and the warmth their bodies had created dispelled.

Patsy retrieved her pyjama top from the floor and put it on then fished around beneath the blankets until she came up with both pairs of pyjama bottoms.

“Here you are,” Patsy said as she put on her pyjama pants then walked to the other side of the bed and presented Delia with the top and bottoms of her own pyjamas. “Best you put them on before you get too cold…. and before someone walks in and wonders why you’re sleeping naked in the middle of winter.”

“I’ll tell them that the woman I love was keeping me warm but she had to leave,” Delia replied sleepily as she reached out for the nightwear.

“You’ll tell them no such thing unless you want to have us both tossed out on our ear,” Patsy replied, trying to sound stern but her heart melting at Delia’s words. “I have to go…. I’ll see you at breakfast…. I love you.”

With a last kiss to Delia’s cheek, Patsy tiptoed back the way she had entered, unlocked the door and crept her way to the room she now shared with Nurse Crane. She cracked the door open slightly and peered in, hoping upon hope to see Phyllis still sleeping. If she wasn’t, Patsy had already decided that, if asked, she would say she that she’d just been to the bathroom and then pray that Phyllis wasn’t awake enough to notice that her bed hadn’t yet been slept in.

Fortunately, luck was with her as Phyllis’ eyes were shut tight and her breathing was that of someone in the relaxed state of sleep. Resisting the urge to rush, Patsy carefully made her way to her bed where she slipped beneath the covers and, as she put her head on the pillow, allowed herself to breathe again, albeit very quietly. What she couldn’t possibly see or notice was the small, knowing smile on Phyllis Crane’s face.

oooOooo

 

“Morning, Pats,” Trixie trilled as she flitted around the kitchen fetching cups and saucers and filling the kettle. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“I’d love one, thank you.”

“Oh and help yourself to the toast while it’s still warm….. I made extra.”

“You’re a champion, Trix.”

 “Fred brought round a new batch of Violet’s strawberry jam, if you’d like some. The jar is on the table.It's probably best you have some before Sister Monica Joan discovers it.”

While Trixie made the tea and Pats spread her toast with butter and a hefty layer of Violet’s jam, they were progressively joined by Sister Winifred, Nurse Crane, Nurse Dyer and finally Delia, all of them going about the business of making themselves some breakfast.

“How was your first night back on shore?” Nurse Crane asked Patsy as she poured herself a cup of tea. “Did you sleep well?”

“Very well, thank you, Phyllis,” Patsy replied, deliberately avoiding all eye contact with Delia who she instinctively knew would be holding back a grin. “And you?”

“Like the dead, as they say….. Once my head hit that pillow, I was out like a light for the entire night but then I always was a sound sleeper.”

This time, Patsy did dare to slip Delia a sideways glance. Their secret was safe it seemed.

Once breakfast was over, the Sisters and midwives of Nonnatus gathered to collect their equipment and duty rosters in readiness for their rounds of the people of Poplar who were in need of their care.

With only the two of them left in the kitchen, Patsy and Delia sidled a little closer.

“Would you mind if I walked with you to the bus stop this morning?” Patsy asked.

“Of course, not…. That would be lovely.”

“I’ll go and fetch my coat…. I’ll meet you at the door.”

Fortunately, it had stopped snowing early in the night and the pavements were now clear although still icy and due care needed to be taken.

The bus to St Cuthbert’s left from a stop that was a ten-minute walk from Nonnatus House and for the first few minutes Patsy and Delia strolled in a thoughtful silence until each turned to the other and in unison said, “Can I ask you something?”

They laughed together as Delia said, “You go first?”

Patsy hesitated for a moment, uncertain as to how her suggestion would be received. She was fairly confident Delia would be in favour of her idea but there were significant hurdles they would need to overcome. With only one way to find out, she pressed on.

“I was thinking I would like for us to try again…”

Delia gave her a confused look.

“Sharing a flat,” she added. “What do you think?”

“Really?”

“Yes.  I’m tired of having to sneak around, always locking doors, always having to talk in whispers…. of having to constantly be afraid that someone might see us or being interrupted by a knock on the door…. It’s hard enough having to restrain ourselves and pretend when we’re out in public, I don’t want to have to do it when we’re at home too,” Patsy explained, the exasperation clear in her voice. “I want us to be able to act like other couples for at least some of the time…. When we’re at home I want us to be able to kiss and hold one another at our leisure.”

Although her justification was entirely unnecessary because she would go anywhere Pats wanted to go just to be with her, Delia was moved by Patsy’s ardency for them to be together as a couple.

“I think it’s a fabulous idea.”

“You do?”

“Of course!”

“What about your family? …. Your mother? What will she think of the idea?”

“She’ll probably hate the thought but I’ll talk her round.”

“Are you sure, Delia? She seems to be able to change your mind about almost anything. Maybe we should talk to her together.”

Patsy did have a point, she had to admit.

“I could write her a letter….. By the time she gets the letter and makes her way to London to talk me out of it, we could be moved in and it would be too late.”

“Coward,” Patsy laughed, “you can tell her over the phone and when she comes to London to drag you back to Wales, we’ll talk to her together. I’ll make it abundantly clear that I will take very good care of you…..and if she doesn’t like that, well, I’ll just kidnap you.”

For just an instant, Delia sought out Patsy’s hand and squeezed it tightly.

“I love ‘Take-charge Patsy’…. She’s very useful at times, especially when it comes to dealing with my mother,” Delia teased.

“Speaking of taking charge, I’ll start looking in the newspapers today and see if there’s anything suitable…. I’ll also talk to Sister Julienne and let her know our plans. That could be another hurdle to jump.”

They were only a few yards away from the bus stop. They deliberately slowed their pace, both women reluctant to part company so soon.

“What was it you wanted to say before?” Patsy asked as they held back from the main group of people also waiting for the bus.

“I was going to say that my shift finishes at five o’clock today and then I have two days off…. I was hoping we could go to the Gateways Club tonight…. We could dance and hold hands and not have to worry about who’s watching us …. We’d be like every other couple for a few hours.”

“The idea of dancing with you, Nurse Busby, is very appealing. I’d love to go. I quite enjoyed it last time we went.”

“After I dragged you there, kicking and screaming.”

It was true. It had taken a lot of persuasion on Delia’s part to convince Patsy to go but when they had finally made it, the night had been a huge success. They had spent the entire evening indulging in the freedom of being able to embrace, dance in each other’s’ arms and even kiss without the concern of being seen, a truly euphoric experience for them.

 “Mmmm…. perhaps,” Patsy reluctantly agreed, “here’s your bus. I’ll see you tonight.”

Delia stepped closer and for one terrifying moment, Patsy thought she was going to kiss her in public.

“I love you,” she whispered into Patsy’s ear and then scooted off to join the line to board the bus.

oooOooo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was to be a two part story but it has grown since I posted chapter 1 as stories tend to do and it now has 3 chapters.

As Delia’s bus drove off, Patsy turned to retrace her steps back to Nonnatus House but with no duties awaiting her there other than to unpack and resettle into her new room, she decided to take a detour up into the High Street. She would take the opportunity of a morning off to browse the shops and refamiliarise herself with this part of London once more. If she and Delia were going to move into a flat together there would be things they would need to buy. She could keep an eye out for any bargains, not that she had ever had to be responsible for this type of thing before but the idea of self-sufficiency as well as much-needed privacy, appealed to her greatly. The very thought of it put an extra skip in her step.

It had only gone half eight and while many of the store owners were on site, busy going about the process of preparing for their day – receiving deliveries, dressing window displays and setting up tables on footpaths for items that spilled out of the shop, all but a few doors were officially shut for now.

Patsy’s first stop was a newsagent where she ducked in and bought a newspaper for the specific purpose of looking in the advertisements for a flat to rent. From there, she decided to bide some time in a café that was already open for business. After a quick glance at the menu, she decided to go with the morning special of a cup of tea that came with a serving of scones with jam and cream for two shillings.  Once she’d ordered, Patsy tucked herself away at one of the small tables in a warm corner of the café and opened the newspaper, flicking carelessly through the pages, barely noticing the news of the day as she leafed her way to the section dedicated to rental properties.  She folded the unwieldy paper into a more manageable size and took a pen from her handbag in readiness to mark those advertisements that sounded suitable so she could show them to Delia. _“What was it they actually needed?” she thought to herself as she began to read._ It had to be located within a short walking distance of Nonnatus House and also a bus stop. It didn’t need to be fancy but it would need to have two bedrooms – one for her and Delia and then a spare bedroom that could be passed off as ‘Delia’s room’ if necessary. Patsy’s other non-negotiable requirement was a functional heating system. Too many winters spent in the freezing cold of the Japanese internment camp with her mother and sister where they would scrape together anything that would burn in order to keep a fire going, often only to have it put out by the Japanese soldiers, had given her an extreme aversion to living in a cold house, especially when heat was available if properly maintained. She would even pay extra if it meant a reliable source of warmth.

The last time they had made plans to share a flat, a budget had been worked out so Patsy decided to use that as her guide.

She’d made it through the first column when her cup of tea, a plate with two scones and two small dishes holding the jam and cream arrived. Disappointed that so far, she could find nothing that seemed suitable, Patsy put the paper aside in favour of concentrating on plying her scone with a layer of the sticky jam and topping it with a spoonful of thick cream.

By the time there was nothing left on her plate bar a few crumbs and only the dregs swam in the bottom of her tea cup, the street had come to life as the shops opened their doors and people began to fill the footpaths, some on a mission knowing exactly what they wanted and where to go, others, like Patsy, out for a casual stroll. Small knots of women… some young, some old… gathered outside shopfronts, catching up on local news or showing off the newest addition to the family. Men leaned against walls having a smoke while searching for jobs in a newspaper or bemoaning the state of affairs to whoever would listen.

Patsy left the extraneous pages of the newspaper behind in the café for the next customer to read, putting only the pages she needed into her handbag before stepping out into the street once more. She found the bustle of the High Street so very heart-warmingly familiar after her time away in a strange country where she was barely able to leave her father’s house and knew nobody.

She pulled her coat more tightly around her and adjusted her scarf as the air still held a morning chill. Despite the clear skies, the sun was struggling to warm things up. Patsy took her time ambling casually down the street peering into shop windows, looking at everything but for nothing in particular, simply browsing and enjoying the sense of being home again.

As Patsy approached the general homewares store she decided that she should take a look inside as she and Delia would probably need to purchase various items at some stage. Walking along the cluttered aisles, Patsy was taken aback by the enormous number of objects that filled every available space. The store was literally stuffed to the gills with every gadget imaginable, some useful, some novelty items and some that were a complete mystery. After only a few minutes, the sheer volume of merchandise overwhelmed her and she quickly retreated.

 _“Where does one even start, or stop, for that matter?” she wondered to herself as she left the store empty-handed and a little flustered by the thought that she would_ _eventually have to return and do some committed shopping._

At regular intervals along the street, she came across faces she recognised. Some of those simply smiled and waved to her as they continued on their way while others stopped to inquire about her absence and express their delight at having her back at Nonnatus House. One or two gave her an update on an offspring she had delivered previously….

“Mary Donaldson’s youngest, Ruth, is three now and she’s a right stubborn one…. has been right from the outset….Do you remember, Nurse Mount? She didn’t want to come out. She had you and her poor mother working at it for hours.”

 Others informed her of who in Poplar was expecting an addition to the family.

“Dave and Elsie McBain are expecting another baby….that will be number five….Let’s hope it’s boy this time so she can stop…. That new couple, Mr and Mrs Johnson at number 12, are expecting their first….twins, no less… she’ll know she’s alive with two little ones to care for…I hear Mrs Turner had a baby boy….Give her and Dr Turner my love will you, Nurse Mount…”

With her spirits higher than they had been for months, Patsy was content to wander from shop to shop until she came to a window display that caught her attention. The album sleeves of twenty or thirty popular or newly-released records, many of them miniature works of art in themselves, swung slowly from invisible threads. Also on display were several different styles of record players. Strains of Elvis Presley’s ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You’ wafted outside, enticing her to enter.

She perused the very latest releases on the rotating stand and then thumbed her way through the first couple of the many boxes that held literally hundreds of records, each in alphabetical order. Every now and again she took one out to look at it more closely but inevitably slotted it back in place.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” one of the young shop assistants asked her, his longish fringe hanging over the thick, black rim of his glasses.

“Not really,” Pasty answered, “as I don’t have a record player.”

“Well, we can certainly help you out with that problem,” he replied swiftly, sensing a sales opportunity.

Patsy allowed herself to be lead to a space at the rear of the floor where there were several record players of various sizes and shapes on display.

“What would you prefer?” he asked, “portable or free standing?”

Patsy ummed and arrh-ed. She wasn’t sure. This was all quite spur-of-the-moment. It would be lovely to have a record player to play music on once they were in a flat but could she afford it? Her father had given her some money while she had been in Hong Kong looking after him. At first, she had been reluctant to accept it but her father had insisted, explaining that it would only go back to the bank or the government if she didn’t as he had no one else to leave it to so she had finally relented.  Patsy gave a generous amount of this money to the nurse who had taken care of him for the past year as well as to a local orphanage. She’d also used some to purchase her ticket back to England which still left her with just over £1000. Her plan had been to put the remainder aside for a rainy day. The day her father died she was also made aware that she eventually stood to gain several thousand more pounds from his will once settlements had been made and everything had proceeded through official channels. In spite of all their years apart, he had not forgotten or begrudged his one surviving daughter.

Although Patsy was not one to count her chickens before they hatched, perhaps she could afford to lash out a little on one or two small extravagances.

“This is our best-selling model at the moment,” the assistant was explaining to her as he pointed out a small, suitcase-sized machine. “It’s the Dansette Popular 4 speed which comes in this convenient case with a carry handle for ease of portability.” He closed the lid and demonstrated how easily it could be carried from one place to the other.

“How much does it cost?” Patsy asked.

“This particular model is eleven guineas or, for an extra two guineas, you can opt for the Bermuda 4 speed with auto-change…you can stack several records on it and it changes them automatically…it comes with legs. Both models have built-in speakers, of course.”

“Can I listen to them?”

“Certainly.”

He quickly disappeared for a moment or two, returning with the Elvis record that had been playing when Patsy had walked in. He then unwound the electric cord of the first player, plugged it in and switched on the power then placed the record on the turntable, all the while giving Patsy a detailed explanation of how to operate it, throwing in for good measure a swarm of mechanical minutiae that she cared little about.

It was to be another twenty minutes before Patsy escaped the music shop, her head now spinning almost as much as the vinyl disc on the record player with the information she had been given.

Patsy made one more stop outside a bookshop where there was a large selection of second hand books on a table outside. The owner of the shop had put them out in neat stacks that morning but already they lay scattered across the entire surface as curious customers had rummaged through them. They were mostly cheap paperbacks with titles such as, “One Small Secret” or “My Heart Awaits,” their covers all illustrated in a similar manner, usually with a young, attractive female gazing helplessly into the eyes of a handsome man with chiselled features who, it appeared, had just come to her rescue. Patsy quickly tossed these books aside. She did the same with the books about war and its heroes. Eventually, after some persistent digging, she found a title that appealed. She paid the female shop assistant the required two shillings, put the book in her bag then made her way back to Nonnatus House.

oooOooo

One by one, Patsy collected the boxes from her previous room that Nurse Dyer and Trixie had carefully packed her things into and moved them into her new space where she then proceeded to go through each one and see what they contained. She decided that she would only take out those things that were absolutely necessary as she was hopeful that it would be sooner rather than later that she and Delia would find a flat of their own to move into then she could unpack properly.

Once everything was sorted, Patsy ventured downstairs to the dining room where she joined the other midwives and Sisters for lunch. Keeping the cold weather in mind, the kitchen had prepared a steamy tomato soup followed by vegetables and roast beef. A strawberry shortcake also loomed large in the centre of the table.

As the dishes of vegetables were passed around the table and the women served themselves, Patsy took in the banter. She had missed the camaraderie of Nonnatus House.  According to Nurse Dyer, Mrs Hammond at number nine was sure to give birth in the next day or two and was planning a home birth so she needed to be put on the list while all five of the Oswald children were rife with head lice again….this bit of news had everyone at the table suddenly wanting to scratch their heads. Meanwhile, Sister Winifred reported that a stomach bug of some sort had hit most families at the new block of flats in Henley Street resulting in multiple cases of diarrhoea and projectile vomiting. It was not the most appropriate meal-time conversation but one they were all well-used to.

“I hope they’re boiling their water for now,” Nurse Crane tossed in, “because they do need to keep up their fluids.”

“That was my advice to them too,” said Sister Winifred.

To move on from the unsavoury topic, Trixie added to the conversation the fact that she’d been to see Mrs Johnson that morning. Claire Johnson was indeed expecting twins which was always very exciting and, with four weeks to go, she was feeling as big as a house.

“I can’t say I was happy with her blood pressure….It was too high for my liking,” Trixie said with more than an ounce of concern, “I suggested as a precaution that we book her into St Cuthbert’s where she can get some real rest and a doctor can keep an eye on her but she wasn’t having any of it. She wants a home birth so we’d better be on our toes for that one.”

“Best we book her in for daily visits,” Sister Julienne advised from her place at the head of the table.

With the plates from the main meal cleared away, Patsy offered to cut the cake for those who wished to partake. Trixie declined the offer, citing as her excuse the need to fit into the extravagantly expensive dress she’d bought for her date with Christopher that evening. Sister Winifred, Sister Julienne and Nurse Crane all decided that they had no room at all left for sweets and would prefer to save their piece for supper so that in the end, it was only Nurse Dyer and Sister Monica Joan who joined Patsy for cake and a second cup of tea.

The joy on Sister Monica Joan’s face as Patsy passed her the plate with the sizable piece of cake on it was almost palpable. On request, Nurse Dyer’s piece was much smaller and the piece Patsy cut for herself was a mere sliver, for in truth, her only reason for partaking in the cake at all was so she would have an opportunity to get better acquainted with this Valerie Dyer. She had an odd feeling about Nurse Dyer. There was an air of mystery about the woman as though she wasn’t fully-revealing herself. Perhaps she was a kindred spirit. Patsy also admitted to herself that this distraction was in all likelihood, a subconscious ploy to put off for a little longer the conversation that she knew she must have with Sister Julienne about leaving Nonnatus House. It didn’t sit well with Patsy not to be honest about why she and Delia wished to move out but there was simply no alternative available to her. To tell the truth could have dire and far-reaching consequences for both her and Delia.

 The cake had been eaten, the tea drunk and the midwives had departed on their afternoon rounds. Patsy stood outside Sister Julienne’s office running the script she’d prepared over in her head as she knocked tentatively on the heavy door then, at Sister Julienne’s bidding, entered.

“Nurse Mount, come in and sit down. What can I do for you? Are you settling back in satisfactorily?”

“That’s what I’d like to discuss with you if I could, Sister….”

“Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine…. it’s just about ‘settling back in’….”

There was something about Sister Julienne that always made Patsy slightly nervous when they were alone and having to bridge this particular topic with her without seeming unappreciative wasn’t easy.

“Yes?”

“You know I’ve always been happy here…. Nonnatus House has given me the happiest of homes and I’m very grateful for that….”

Sister Julienne sat forward in her chair, resting her hands on the desk, one covering the other in front of her as she listened carefully to what Nurse Mount had to say. Her eyes, although serene and gentle seemed to Patsy to be penetrating her inner most thoughts, preparing to sort out the fact from the fiction as they focussed on Patsy’s face and waited patiently for her to say what she had to say.

“Nurse Busby and I….. Do you remember when we were planning to share a flat? And then there was that dreadful accident…”

“I do….yes.”

“Well, nothing has really changed. I…..we would both like to experience living independently. You see, after Nurse Busby’s accident our plans were only postponed until she was well again rather than cancelled. We think the time has come to give it another try.”

Sister Julienne steepled her fingers and closed her eyes for a moment as she considered the proposal.

“Nurse Mount, as you know, you are not bound by any contract to stay here. You are essentially free to stay or go as you please and I fully understand your wish to go out and experience life to its fullest and, of course, you have my blessing. We would still like to see you at lunch….I prefer us to be together for at least some time each day.”

“Definitely. Thank you for your understanding, Sister.”

“However, I’m concerned about Nurse Busby leaving.”

“Why, may I ask?" Patsy couldn’t help the surprise in her voice.

“When I first made the offer of Nonnatus House as a place for Nurse Busby to stay, I feel her mother took it as a promise that I would keep an eye on her….look after her.”

“That was well over a year ago…. she’s as fit as a fiddle now.”

“Up until yesterday, I would have agreed with you, Nurse Mount, but then she had that fainting spell….I feel obliged….”

“She fainted because she hadn’t eaten all day,” Patsy interrupted hastily then, regretting her tone added, “would it help to put your mind at ease if Dr Turner gave her a full check-up?”

After a moment’s contemplation, Sister Julienne replied, “I think that would be sufficient to assuage my conscience… yes.”

A relieved smile crossed Patsy’s face.

“But I would also feel more reassured that I am doing the right thing if I knew Nurse Busby had informed her parents of her plans,” Sister Julienne added. “They’ve been through a lot and they deserve to know.”

“Of course,” Patsy agreed.

“When were you thinking of making this move?”

“As soon as we find somewhere suitable is the plan……I’ll talk to Nurse Busby about making an appointment with Dr Turner…..Thank you for your time, Sister Julienne.”

Sister Julienne answered with a pleasant smile.

Having achieved what she had come for and wanting to keep the conversation and, in turn, the need to be creative with the truth, to a minimum, Patsy stood and retreated towards the door, allowing the Sister to get on with the rest of her business.

oooOooo

Back in her new room, Patsy was sorting through her clothes as she looked for something suitable to wear to The Gateways Club later that evening. She had already made up her mind that she was going to wear slacks and a top of some description rather than a dress but she was uncertain as to whether she preferred the dark red ‘cigarette’ pants together with her cream faux-cashmere sweater that had a row of small, pearl buttons down the front or the navy blue, high-waisted trousers with the vintage wide-leg and her favourite white blouse. Unable to make a final choice, she left both outfits laid out over the end of her bed ready to seek Delia’s opinion on the matter later. Either way, she was teaming which ever outfit she chose with one of the few purchases she’d brought back from Hong Kong, a pair of black, lace-up shoes. She’d bought them from a men’s shoe store along Nathan Rd in Kowloon after she had finally tired of trying to find a pair of women’s shoes to fit her. In shop after shop, the sales assistants had looked at her size nine feet in despair, saying, “No…no…we don’t sell shoes that big here….try men’s store.”

Out of curiosity, she had taken their advice and ventured into the next men’s shoe store she’d come across. As she looked at row upon row of flat, leather shoes on display along each of the walls, she came to the conclusion that men certainly had the monopoly on comfort and sensibility when it came to footwear. Eventually, she selected a pair of black, lace-ups that had a style and design, as well as the patent-leather finish, that gave them a more feminine appearance and, as an added bonus, when the assistant returned with a pair in her size and she had tried them on, she found them to be extremely comfortable.

Content that she’d narrowed her choice of outfits down as much as possible, Patsy put away all the unwanted items then retrieved her suitcase from beside the door and sat it on the bed. Inside were still several items she hadn’t yet unpacked which she sifted through until she found the small, silk, drawstring pouch she was searching for. She loosened the drawstring and opened it up, checking that its contents remained safely inside. It was the only other significant purchase she had made in Hong Kong just a few days before her departure as it turned out. Satisfied that all was as it should be, Patsy drew the string tight again and looked around the room for somewhere safe but handy to keep it for the moment. She decided on the top drawer of her bedside cupboard.

oooOooo

It was almost six o’clock when there came a soft tap at the door. Patsy instantly slipped the book she was reading under her pillow, then, before she could reply, there came a cheery ‘hello’ from the doorway. As she looked over towards the voice, she saw Delia’s smiling face peering at her from around the edge of the door which instantly put a smile on Patsy’s own face.

Noticing that there was no one else in sight, Delia entered the room, gently closing the door behind her and sauntered over to perch on the bed beside where Patsy now sat cross-legged, leaning back against a plumped-up pillow. Their lips chanced a brief kiss.

“What were you reading?” Delia asked, her curiosity piqued as she had spied Patsy’s effort to dash a book of some description out of sight.

Patsy delved under her pillow and retrieved it from its hiding place.

“It’s a novel I picked up in the High Street this morning for two shillings,” she said as she handed it to Delia.

“’The Well of Loneliness’…..It sounds positively depressing…. What’s it about?” Delia asked.

“Inverts,” Patsy replied in a hushed voice.

“Inverts? What are inverts?”

“Ssshhhh…..not so loud,” Patsy warned, looking around as if the walls might have ears.

“What are inverts?” Delia asked again, this time her voice was no more than a whisper although she wasn’t sure why she was having to speak so softly.

“People like us.”

“People like us? Sounds more like some sort of alien, if you ask me.” Delia’s face screwed up in complete distaste for the word.

“I’m certain there are some people who are convinced we _are_ aliens…something from another planet that they don’t quite understand.”

Delia turned to the back cover and began to read the blurb.

“I didn’t know that ‘people like us’ even made it into books.”

“We do occasionally,” Patsy said with a sarcastic smile, “but more often than not we end up dead or living out our lives in abject misery.”

Delia considered that bit of information, then having now read the synopsis, said, “Somehow I don’t think this story is going to be an exception to that rule.”

Deciding she didn’t need that kind of gloom in her life, Delia handed the book back to Patsy who quickly assigned it to her top drawer.

As a move to a more uplifting topic, Delia asked, “Did you have a chance to look in the newspaper for a flat today?”

“As a matter of fact, I did…. Although I’m afraid it wasn’t terribly successful.”

Patsy showed Delia the section of newspaper where she had put a red circle around four properties, beside two of those she had also put a large, red question mark. From the description given, they were both suitable but one of them was considerably more expensive than their budget allowed for and the second was perhaps too far away to be convenient for them.

After some discussion, they decided they would view them regardless, however, one of the other properties Patsy had circled had to be crossed off the list. Delia knew the neighbourhood and convinced Patsy that they wouldn’t want to live there so realistically, they were down to one property that fulfilled all their needs provided, of course, that it lived up to its hype and then there were the two ‘maybes’. They would phone the next morning and arrange what viewings they could.

While she sought out Delia’s opinion on an outfit for the evening, Patsy also filled her in on her conversation with Sister Julienne. Delia couldn’t honestly say she was enthused about having a medical examination from Dr Turner but if it eased their path then she would go along with the idea.

There was also the matter of having to inform her parents of her intentions. Although she could understand Sister Julienne’s concern, she didn’t appreciate her interference in family matters nor did she think it should be a condition of her being able to leave.

“I don’t need my parents’ permission to move out,” Delia complained, “I’m 25 years old….an adult, for heaven’s sake…. Strictly speaking, I can go and live under a bridge if I want.”

Patsy gave Delia’s shoulders a quick, sympathetic rub.

“I know, Deels, but it would seem a little ungrateful, considering the circumstances, for you not to follow Sister Julienne’s request…. Anyway, you don’t have to ‘ask’ your parent’s permission but you do need to let them know…. which is sort of the same thing, don’t you think?”

Delia rolled her eyes.

“My mother is going to want to know all the whys and wherefores and I’ll have to make something up…. I hate all this lying, especially to my family…. Why can’t we just tell people and have them accept that we’re living together because we love….”

Quite suddenly, with only a cursory knock, the door was opened and Nurse Crane stepped into the room.

“Midwifery.” Delia finished her sentence, unsure as to how much Phyllis had overheard.

“How are we all this evening?” came Nurse Crane’s cheerful greeting.

oooOooo

Delia had convinced Patsy to wear the slim-fitting, red pants and the cream-coloured sweater with the pearl buttons claiming that she loved the way it outlined and flattered her figure, while Delia herself, had chosen a figure-hugging dress of subtly-patterned, navy-blue wool which had a scooped neckline, three-quarter sleeves and a belt made of the same fabric as the dress. She’d bought it during the time Patsy was away as a pick-me-up when she was feeling particularly lonely but she hadn’t had the occasion nor the heart to wear it so tonight was its debut. Delia was suitably delighted with Patsy’s reaction to her choice as she noticed her large, blue eyes widen further and the red mouth drop open slightly as Patsy first walked into her room and saw her.

As she was doing a final check in the full-length mirror, Patsy came to stand behind her, peering into the mirror as well, finding great appeal in the image of them standing together.  With light fingers, she brushed aside Delia’s thick hair which was let loose for the night and placed a tender kiss on the curve of her neck then handed Delia the small, embroidered pouch she’d taken from her suitcase earlier that day.

“I bought this for you in Hong Kong,” she whispered into Delia’s ear, “open it.”

Delia loosened the drawstring and tipped out into the palm of her hand a fine gold chain with a heavy, gold disc the size of a shilling coin hanging from it. She held it up so she could see the detail more clearly. The disc held a design that was obviously some sort of Chinese lettering.

“That’s the Chinese symbol for love,” Patsy explained as she took the necklace from Delia’s palm and fastened it about her neck, pleased with how the disc sat beautifully just above the swell of Delia’s breasts.

“It’s wonderful, Pats,” Delia said as she held the gold disc between her fingers and fought off the hot tears she could feel forming. “Thank you.”

Patsy turned Delia around and held her face lightly in her hands, tilting it up slightly so their eyes met.

“You do know that I love you so very, very much, don’t you?” Patsy said, the words coming straight from her heart, their depth and sincerity clear.

Delia’s own words were choked back with emotion. The best she could do was nod as she felt Patsy’s warm lips press lightly against her own. It wouldn’t do to kiss too firmly otherwise lipstick would have to be reapplied.

By half seven both women were dressed and setting off for the evening, their thick coats and woollen scarves tucked around tightly against the cold, night air. There was the prospect of snow again later in the night.

They had decided they would find somewhere nice but not too expensive to have dinner and perhaps a couple of drinks before making their way to Kings Road.

oooOooo

The two women walked swiftly from the Kings Road bus stop to the Bramerton Street corner, eyes to the ground, chins tucked into scarves and coats pulled close to provide a degree of anonymity as well as warmth as they were very conscious of the fact that the reputation of The Gateways Club was well-known here in Chelsea and indeed, the whole of London.

After entering through the innocuous green door along with several others who were seeking the same refuge, Patsy and Delia descended the steep staircase that led into the club proper where they were hit with the smoky haze and the cacophony of sounds that rose from the room packed with women of all descriptions.

 At the bottom of the stairs, Patsy and Delia unwrapped themselves, handed in their coats and scarves at the cloakroom and then wormed their way through the throng of patrons towards the bar on the opposite side of the room.

 As a mere space, ‘The Gates’ was barely more than a smoky cellar with its windowless walls muralled in colourful scenes livening up what would have otherwise been little more than drab dungeon. It was the crowd, an eclectic mix of women…..some were the eccentric, artsy type while others seemed restrained and reserved, nervous even….they all went into the melting pot to create the necessary character of the place. Many of them sat or stood in groups smoking, talking and laughing above the sound of the jukebox while even more women sweated and swayed to its music out on the crowded dancefloor. In nooks and crannies, pairs of women openly flirted, held hands, embraced and even kissed. Those who had come alone, perhaps preparing to brave a chance with a stranger in the search for love, tended to hover like moths to the flame along the length of the bar where they regularly fortified their courage with an alcoholic beverage or three.

 Appearances were as many and varied as the women themselves with some dressed in mannish, three-piece suits, others in the most feminine of dresses as well as everything in-between.  Everyone here knew that in ‘The Gates’ they were free to express themselves in any manner they liked as long as it was peaceful and it was that rare freedom that seemed responsible for the sense of fearless abandon that sparked the energy and excitement that brought the room to life.

As they waited at the bar to be served, Delia indulged in the delight of being able to put her arm around Patsy’s waist and claim her as her own. She even dared to kiss that glorious spot just below Patsy’s earlobe despite the hundreds of eyes in the room.

“Well, you’ve finally found yourself a lady friend,” a voice said to her, “and, may I say, you look much happier for it.”

Delia turned to see who it was who had spoken and to check if it was actually her the person was addressing.

“Pardon?” Delia said to the woman standing beside her who peered at her from behind playful, green eyes and presented a smile full of straight, white teeth and scarlet lips. Even though she was wearing heels that were considerably higher than the ones Delia wore, the woman only just matched her in height. She wore a bright, floral-patterned dress that had a tight bodice flaring at the waistline into a full skirt, emphasising her petite frame. Its vibrancy of colour seemed to forewarn of its wearer’s gregarious nature. In addition, the woman had picked out the red in the pattern with which to co-ordinate her lips, nails and shoes.

“My friends and I....” The stranger turned her head slightly and indicated with a nod towards a table where a group of three other women were sitting. “We’ve seen you in here a few times in the past months….. We’ve watched you walk in and order a drink then sit by yourself for the rest of the night. We couldn’t help but notice how unhappy you looked.”

Delia felt the colour rising in her cheeks and was relieved that Patsy wasn’t hearing this as she was distracted with the ordering of the drinks, having now been waited upon.

“We thought about asking you to join us,” the woman continued, “but you seemed to be off in a world of your own.”

Delia’s embarrassment deepened as she remembered the last time she’d visited here. It was when she hadn’t heard from Patsy in over a month and, in spite of a monumental effort, had succumbed to a desperate, sinking feeling that she may never see her again. Even though she had promised Patsy she would remain strong, she couldn’t help the ache that filled her heart and the sense of being no more than a ghost, her true identity known to none but herself. Her longing for Patsy accompanied by the several glasses of red wine she had consumed that evening had made her especially melancholy and, for the sake of some sort of relief that sharing might bring, she had started talking as if someone was there…an invisible friend… listening to her, lending a sympathetic ear. Deciding Delia had reached her limit, Smithy, one of the co-owners of the club and a permanent fixture behind the bar, had convinced her she’d had enough to drink and put her in a taxi with instructions to the driver to take her to Nonnatus House.

“You and your friends must have thought I was a crazy,” Delia said, her face now a deep shade of red that she thought must at least match that in the woman’s dress.

“Well, the thought did cross our minds,” the woman said with an affable laugh. “I’m Louise…Lulu, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Lulu,” Delia said, extending a friendly hand, “I’m Delia….. and this is Patsy, my fr…my partner.”

Hearing her name, Patsy turned to Delia, a glass of red wine in each hand and her purse tucked under her arm.

It seemed Lulu was intent on keeping them company for the present so Delia introduced her to Patsy more formally.  Patsy passed Delia one of the glasses of wine then reached out and shook the woman’s hand with a smile and a genial “pleased to meet you.”

Following a polite amount of small talk, Lulu invited Patsy and Delia to join her and her friends at their table.

“Are you sure we won’t be intruding?” asked Patsy hesitantly as she looked over at the already filled table. She had planned to have Delia all to herself for the night.

“Of course not,” Lulu replied, “it’s always a case of ‘the more the merrier’ at The Gates, don’t you know?”

Giving Delia a quick glance and reading that she was agreeable to the idea, Patsy accepted the invitation on behalf of both of them.

As they approached the table, Lulu called out to her friends and gave a subtle signal which instantly saw chairs shuffled closer and two more added.

Before the newcomers sat down, introductions were done and hands were shaken around the table. There was Gloria, Lulu’s partner who more commonly answered to the name of ‘Tiny,’ mainly because, at almost six foot, she stood head and shoulders above most of the other women. Her thick, dark hair was cropped stylishly short and parted neatly to the side to reveal a strong, intelligent face with hazel eyes lined with extravagantly long eyelashes. She had a perfect, long nose and a long, full-lipped mouth. Her whole body seemed elongated and slender and she moved with a languid grace. She wore a tailored three-piece suit of brown trousers with matching waistcoat and shoes, a cream shirt fastened at the cuff with gold links and a bold, blue tie hung neatly from her collar which all contributed to her rather rakish appeal.  As she reached across the table to shake hands, Patsy noticed the large, square face of a men’s signet ring on her finger.

The couple beside Gloria were introduced as Cynthia and Peggy, two women who could have easily been mistaken for sisters rather than partners as they had the same short, stocky frame and the same round features. It was only Peggy’s halo of curls being a distinctly darker shade of red and the fact that she had smattering of freckles across her pale cheeks that seem to distinguish the two. They both wore denim trousers turned up into a cuff at the bottom and a buttoned-up style of shirt, Cynthia’s was blue and Peggy’s was white.

They all appeared delighted that Patsy and Delia had decided to join them.

Just as Patsy and Delia were about to take their seats, Chubby Checker’s The Fly began to play on the jukebox and soon its lively beat filled the room. In unison, the women who had been sitting at the table sculled the last of their drinks, pushed back their chairs and swarmed towards the centre of the room that served as the dancefloor. Tiny stalled only to remove Delia’s wineglass from her hand and place it on the table, sloshing out much of its contents in the process, then swept her along with the rest of the frenzy, leaving Patsy and Lulu as the only two remaining seated. Lulu reached into her handbag which had been resting under the table and took out a silver cigarette case which she opened, offering a cigarette to Patsy first before taking one for herself. She cupped her delicate fingers around the flame of her lighter and held it under Patsy’s cigarette and then lit her own. Both women then relaxed back in their seats and enjoyed the first satisfying puff.

“So how long have you and Delia been together?” Lulu finally asked above the din of the music as she moved forward a little and crossed one shapely leg over the other.

Patsy took a moment to calculate.

“Over two years now,” she eventually replied.

“Really?” Lulu said, her surprise evident, “I thought it must be a recent thing….I’ve seen her in here a number of times over the last few months but always on her own…..always looking quite sad.”

Pasty couldn’t help a heavy sigh. She knew she was responsible for that sadness and, at the time, had there been any choice but to go she would have taken it in a heartbeat if it meant not leaving Delia but she couldn’t regret going to see her father one last time. She also recognised the growing she had done in the months she was away. She would make it up to Delia by loving her all the more.

“I’m afraid I was responsible for that sadness,” Patsy admitted as she took a mouthful of her wine then, with some gently coaxing, went on to explain to Lulu about having to go to Hong Kong at the request of her dying father and not knowing for sure how long she and Delia would be apart.

“The trip takes more than three weeks by boat and then I was there for several months….I left to come home the day after he died but the return journey was another three weeks at sea and I couldn’t get a letter to Delia to tell her I was coming home…..”

“I don’t think I would survive without Gloria for such a long period, not knowing when or whether she was coming back to me,” Lulu empathised.

“You don’t think you’ll make it but then you somehow find the strength….You have to,” Patsy replied as she looked towards the writhing commotion on the dancefloor, catching glimpses of Delia as she twisted and turned with the best of them. "I was always coming back to her."

Finally, after another two upbeat numbers, the slower strains of the tune Patsy recognised as the song she and Delia had first danced to here at The Gateways began to play.

_“I love how your eyes close whenever you kiss me,_

_And when I’m away from you, I love how you miss me.”_

Patsy excused herself to Lulu and went in search of Delia who she found was thinking the same thing and making a direct line for her. As soon as Patsy was within reach, Delia encircled her in her arms, pressing their bodies close.

_“I love the way you always treat me tenderly_

_But darling, most of all, I love how you love me.”_

Patsy put an arm loosely around Delia’s neck and with her free hand, crooked a finger under her chin, tilting it up slightly so she could place a soft kiss on that lovely mouth.

 

_“I love how your heart beats whenever I’m near you,_

_I love how you think of me without being told to.”_

As their lips parted, Patsy pulled Delia closer still, their cheeks pressed lightly together and their bodies now gently swaying as one in time to the music.

 

_“I love the way your touch is always heavenly,_

_But, darling, most of all I love how you love me.”_

All too soon the song came to an end and another more energetic number began to play. Rather than dance on, Patsy and Delia chose to return to the table where they found their drinks had been replenished compliments of Tiny who was now sitting next to Lulu, an arm stretched lazily across the back of Lulu’s chair. It wasn’t long before Cynthia and Peggy also joined them, fresh drinks in hands.

“What part of London are you from?” Tiny asked Delia and Patsy as she exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“Poplar,” Delia replied, “We board at Nonnatus House.”

Noticing the uncomprehending looks they were given, Delia then went on to explain that she and Patsy were midwives and how they had both come to be living at the House with the Nonnatus nuns.

“You live in a house with a bunch of nuns and other midwives?” Cynthia repeated just to be sure she had the story straight.

“I bet that doesn’t half cramp your style,” Peggy added.

“It’s cheap and convenient for work,” Patsy replied, “although it’s not ideal.”

“Let’s just say we’ve learnt to be very quiet and we’re good at tiptoeing,” Delia threw in.

 

“It reminds me of when I still lived with my mother,” Tiny laughed, “one day I had this girl over and we were having a bit of what you fancy in the living room of all places when we heard the front gate squeak and then my mother’s key in the door. She’d come home early from her Bridge Club afternoon….she wasn’t feeling well or some such reason….I had to hide the girl and her clothes in the cupboard under the stairs. It was almost an hour before my old mum decided to go upstairs to take a nap and I could let the girl out of the cupboard.”

“How did the girl take being tossed in a cupboard?” Peggy asked through her laughter.

“Needless to say, she wasn’t impressed with being in the dark for that long but it’s probably just as well it was dark….she would have been frightened to death if she had seen the spiders that were in that cupboard with her.”

The mention of spiders evoked a similar reaction of revulsion from all present at the table.

“Actually, we’re hoping to find a place to live and move in as soon as possible,” Patsy said, “but there isn’t much around at the moment….well, not that we can afford.”

After a brief lull in the conversation while they took the opportunity to have a mouthful of drink or light fresh cigarettes, Peggy piped up, “Lulu, isn’t Midge’s terrace house up for rent? It’s in that area and it’s a nice place.”

“I’d forgotten about that. Midge is following her heart up to the Yorkshire dales somewhere and has put her place up for rent. It would be perfect although I don’t know how much she wants for it. She’s here somewhere. We could ask her if you’re interested.”

“That would be wonderful,” Delia said, her excitement bubbling to the surface as the prospect of actually having a place of their own became more real.

Lulu, Tiny, Cynthia and Peggy all strained their necks as they looked around the room for any sighting of their friend, Midge. Eventually she was spotted at the far end of the bar waiting to be served. Lulu guided Patsy and Delia over to her and introduced them.

The place Midge described to them seemed to be exactly what they were looking for if not more. It was a three-storey terrace house located only a few blocks from Nonnatus House and the price, although on the upper limits of their affordability scale, seemed fair for what they were getting. A viewing was arranged for Sunday morning and they would go from there.

As eleven o'clock approached, there came Smithy's familiar call from behind the bar, "Three little minutes, girls!"

After hugs, handshakes, warm wishes and thank-yous all round with their newfound friends as well as promises to see each other again, Delia and Patsy collected their coats and scarves from the cloakroom and wrapped themselves up again, ready to face the outside world.

Reluctant to leave the freedom they’d had in The Gateways Club totally behind, they walked towards the Kings Rd bus stop arm in arm, after all it wasn’t such an unusual thing to see two women stroll along with their arms linked.

“Hey, look! There’s a couple of ‘toms’ from that club!” came a loud, male voice from behind them.

The two women stiffened. Patsy motioned to remove her arm from Delia’s but Delia put her hand on Patsy’s and stopped her.

“Ignore them, Pats,” she whispered, “they’ll give up eventually.”

At the far end of the road, they could see their bus rolling slowly towards them.

“Hey, darlin’, give us a kiss, will ya?” called out a second male voice. He then pursed his lips and made loud kissing noises into the air which drew raucous laughter from those who were with him.

Although she knew it was probably best to simply walk on and ignore her tormentors, Patsy couldn’t help herself. Since growing up in a Japanese internment camp, she had never been one to walk away from trouble. She wanted to see what she was up against. To Delia’s surprise, Patsy halted and turned on her toes to face the men. She glared at them unflinchingly. There were two of them. They were young, no more than twenty and each had a woman of rather dubious character hanging off their arm.

“Why don’t you just go on your way and leave us alone?” Patsy said firmly as she tried to reason with them, “we’re not doing you any harm.”

“People like you disgust me,” one of the men spat.

 It was clear from his struggle to keep his balance that he had had too much to drink.

“I know what you two need,” chimed in the other as he too fought to maintain his upright stance while, at the same time, making a crude gesture with his hands and his groin which the two female companions considered highly amusing as they laughed loudly.  One laugh, Patsy thought, was appropriately reminiscent of a donkey’s bray.

Fortunately, the bus had arrived at their stop. With one hand Delia waved wildly at the driver to wait for them while with the other hand she grabbed Pasty’s arm and pulled her towards the bus stop.

“Let’s go.”

Pasty had quickly realised that it was pointless to try and talk sense with such inebriated fools and went willingly. They both turned their backs on their assailants, crossed the road and jumped onto the platform at the back of the bus.

 Safely inside, they could see their taunters stumbling their way along the footpath on the other side of the road, still calling out to them, however, from inside the bus Patsy and Delia couldn’t hear a word they were saying although it would have been easy to get the gist of it.

The first half mile or so of their journey was made in silence. Delia could tell from the expression on Patsy’s face that she was upset by their distasteful encounter.

“Don’t let them spoil our evening,” Delia said finally, “I had a wonderful time. Didn’t you?’

Patsy relented with a small smile.

“I did. It was a lot of fun.”

“And Midge’s house sounds terrific.”

For the rest of the trip home Delia guided the conversation onto topics such as their hopes for their lives together, plans they needed to make and what essentials they would have to buy until she was sure Patsy’s anger with the incident at the bus stop had been completely dispelled.

oooOooo

As always, at this late hour Nonnatus House was in darkness and silence filled its hallways.Patsy and Delia removed their shoes and crept noiselessly up the stairs to their respective rooms.

“Can I come in and say goodnight?” Patsy asked in a whisper as they stood outside her door.

“Of course….no need to ask.”

“I’ll see you in a moment.”

Patsy then entered her room as quietly as possible so as not to wake Nurse Crane who she could tell was sleeping soundly from the light snores that emanated from that part of the room. Patsy quickly slipped out of her clothes and hung them on over the chair near the window, put on her pyjamas then tiptoed back out into the hallway, past the two doorways and into Delia’s room. This having to sneak back and forth in order to spend some private time with Delia was not a routine she would miss once they were in a flat.

While Delia finished changing into her pyjamas and hanging up her dress, Patsy plumped up the pillow then stretched out on the bed, her hands resting under her head as she watched Delia flit about the room.

“Can you undo this for me, please?” Delia asked as she sat on the side of the bed indicating to the catch on her new necklace.

Patsy sat up and undid the clasp. Delia then carefully dropped the necklace back into its pouch, drew the string tight and placed it in her jewellery box.

With everything done, Delia sidled up next to Patsy on the bed as she loved to do, resting her head on Patsy’s chest, listening to her heart beat and feeling the comfort of Patsy’s arm wrap around her shoulders, Patsy’s fingers twiddling mindlessly with strands of her dark hair.

Delia tried to keep up the mood from the bus with conversation about moving but she was getting little in the way of response until she finally propped herself up on her elbow so she could see Patsy’s face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You’re not thinking about those fools at the bus stop, are you because if you are they’re not …..”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Then what’s troubling you? And don’t try to tell me it’s nothing because I’m very familiar with what ‘worried Pats’ looks like.”

Patsy hesitated. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure she wanted to know the answer to the question that was bothering her.

“Pats, what is it?” Delia persisted.

“When I was away….”

“Yes?”

A frown fell on Delia’s forehead as she too suddenly became concerned as to what Patsy was about to say.

“Did you ever think of being with someone else?”

Delia felt hot tears of both relief and deep, uncompromising love immediately spring to her eyes. Rather than answer with words, Delia stood up and moved from the bed. Patsy hurriedly sat up too and reached out a hand for Delia, afraid that she had upset her but Delia managed to avoid her grasp.

“I’m sorry, Delia…..I didn’t mean to upset you but you asked me what was bothering me.”

Delia opened the drawer where she kept the small, wooden box that contained all the unsent letters she’d written.  She took it out and placed it on the bed in front of Patsy who looked at her slightly bewildered.

“Open it,” Delia instructed her gently.

Patsy carefully removed the lid and was surprised to see a large pile of folded stationery spring up at her.

“Letters?”

“Yes,” Delia replied a little self-consciously as she hadn’t really intended for anyone to read them. “They’re letters to you…. This is how I spent most of my evenings while you were away…writing letters to you… telling you about my day, asking about your day…. Telling you how much I missed you… and how much I loved you…so, you see, in answer to your question, no, I couldn’t possibly think of sharing my life with anyone else…. My thoughts are only for you.”

“But you didn’t send them,” Patsy said, her voice now thick with emotion, “why not?”

“I didn’t want to upset you or have you feel you were to blame for the sadness I was feeling…. You were doing what you had to do… you had no other choice…..your father was dying, I didn’t want to add to your woes.”

“Can I…?

Delia nodded.

Patsy tentatively lifted a letter from the top of the bundle and opened it carefully as if it was as delicate and precious as butterfly wings. The pages were filled with Delia’s small, neat handwriting and Patsy noted that it was dated only a week ago.

_My darling Pats,_

_It has been over two months now since I last heard from you and I am wondering what has happened to make you stop writing. Has it all become too much? Have you stopped thinking of me? Have you stopped loving me?_

_Every day when I awake, my first thoughts are of you and every evening when I close my eyes to sleep you are still there in my dreams and in my heart._

_When I arrive home, I rush to the mail and sort through the letters hoping to see your familiar handwriting but there has been nothing for so long now that I worry that I might never hear from you again. Phyllis even asked if I had heard from you recently. Wonderful Phyllis. I’m almost certain she suspects the true nature of our friendship but she is most understanding of it._

_My other fear is that something has happened to you…something serious… and I’m not there to take care of you. I don’t know how I would forgive myself if that was the case._

_I try to stay strong and believe that you will come back to me for you are the breath that I breathe and the reason my heart beats although it aches terribly for the want of you…. Your touch, your smile, your laugh, your frown, the very sound of your voice._

_I have to believe also that as each day passes it brings us that much closer to the time when we will be together again. …._

Fat tears rolled freely down Patsy’s cheeks, many falling onto the paper and smearing the ink before Patsy could blot them away.

“This is why I didn’t send them.... they’ve made you sad,” Delia said as she brushed clumsily at Patsy’s tears with the sleeve of her pyjama top.

Patsy folded the letter and put it back in the box.

“I’m not sad,” she said softly, looking up at Delia, the tears unrelenting. “I just feel so incredibly fortunate to have someone…. someone who cares for me so much… I’m not sure I’m deserving of such…”

Delia silenced her with a kiss, tender at first but as each poured into it the love they had for the other, the fervour rose. It was to be another early morning tiptoe for Patsy back to her room.

oooOooo

Patsy and Delia timed their walk from Nonnatus House to the address they had been given of 24 Henderson Street which turned out to be a tidy terrace house but with a rather scraggly front garden, however, Midge had explained to them that she had been spending most of her spare time up north in Halifax for that was where her ladylove lived and worked so details such as the garden had been neglected.  She had assured them that it did not reflect the general state of the house which was in very good condition.

The walk had taken them 16 minutes exactly although they had made one wrong turn and had to retrace their steps so, with the adjustment, the distance was well within Patsy’s acceptable range.

On their way, they had also noticed a bus stop only twenty yards or so from the front gate so Delia would be able to catch the No. 10 bus to St Cuthbert’s.

 Unsure as to just how long it would take them, Patsy and Delia had allowed plenty of time and had subsequently arrived ten minutes before the agreed meeting time with Midge of 9am. Not wanting to disturb her until then, they strolled a bit further along the street to check out the neighbourhood. Midge’s house was one in a long line of terrace houses which, with only one or two exceptions, appeared well looked after. Further up the road a dog barked at them as they walked by and a group of children who were kicking a ball around in the street stopped to let them pass and greeted them with a cheerful ‘hello’.

Right on nine, they were back outside number 24. Delia opened the gate and beckoned Patsy through first and then followed behind. Before they could knock on the door, it opened, surprising them both. Midge had been keeping an eye out for them and had seen them come in the gate.

“You can see what I mean about the garden,” she said stepping out onto the top doorstep.

“It’s fine,” Delia assured her, “Pats and I can work on it…it will be fun.”

“We can? It will?....I mean, of course we can,” Patsy said unconvincingly. She’d never gardened before in her life other than to pull the occasional strawberry off Fred’s strawberry plants.

“Come inside and I’ll show you around,” Midge offered.

Delia and Patsy stepped inside, removed their shoes and left them on the small mat by the front door then followed Midge as she gave them a guided tour of the house.

By the time they had reached the upstairs bedroom, both Patsy and Delia could feel their pulses begin to race with excitement. On the ground floor, there was a more-than-adequate kitchen as well as a small dining area and a living room. At the top of the first set of stairs was a bedroom which would serve well as a spare bedroom. Its only window looked out over the handkerchief-sized, grassy backyard.  Also on this floor was a bathroom with an invitingly large tub and the small room beside this was the lavatory. Up a further set of five steps was the main bedroom with a large bay window overlooking the street.

“I’ll leave you to yourselves for a minute to look around,” Midge said, “would you like a cup of tea?”

“That would be lovely,” Patsy replied, barely able to contain her excitement at having found such a place.

Once Midge was out of earshot, Delia gave a squeal of delight.

“It’s perfect, Pats.”

“It is, isn’t,” Patsy agreed. “It makes those places we saw yesterday look positively awful.”

“They were positively awful.”

“Oh, drat…..I forgot to ask about the heating.”

On their way back downstairs to rejoin Midge, Patsy and Delia took a second, more careful look in each room in case they had overlooked some more subtle fault but they found nothing. It all came down to the heating.

Back in the living room, Midge had placed the cups of tea and a plate of cream biscuits on the coffee table and gestured to Patsy and Deli to take a seat on the sofa and help themselves.

“It’s a lovely house,” Patsy began as she reached for her cup of tea. “Does the heating work?”

“As you can see, the fireplace in this room is wonderful especially on cold evenings and I put a new heating system throughout the whole house at the beginning of the winter before last…. I hate the cold, you see…. I don’t know how I’m going to survive up on the Yorkshire dales…. It’s freezing up there in winter…it’s freezing there most of the year, in fact….the things we do for love, eh.”

“Wonderful,” Patsy replied, “then I think we’d be more than happy to live here….Don’t you, Deels?”

“If the rent is as you mentioned the other night.” Delia was having trouble believing they could be so lucky.

“It is….but there’s just one thing I haven’t mentioned…”

Both women felt their hearts sink. It really was too good to be true, after all.

“What?” Patsy asked apprehensively.

Midge hesitated a moment longer.

“I was hoping not to have to move my furniture…. I don’t have anywhere to store it and I won’t be needing it for now… it’s nothing fancy but I was wondering if you would mind if I left it here for you to use….of course, I could sell it but..”

“No…no…that’s fine….perfect…” Delia said as she released the breath she didn’t realise she was holding. “We don’t actually have any furniture of our own so it would be perfect.”

“The only thing I’ll take with me is the mattress from the main bedroom. God knows how I’ll get it there but I will. Charlotte’s mattress is old with a hollow so deep you have to climb out of it every morning.”

‘Would you like us to pay you a bit extra for the use of your furniture?” Patsy offered.

“No, that’s fine,” Midge laughed, “you’ll be doing me a favour…just take care of it for me.”

By the time Patsy and Delia left 24 Henderson St they had signed a contract Midge, on advice from her friends when she’d first floated the idea of renting her house, had drawn up and Patsy had handed over a month’s rent in advance. Midge had also given them a deposit book with which to pay all future rent as well as a spare key and an assurance that she would be out by Friday leaving the place to them by the weekend.

The walk back to Nonnatus House was full of plans and excitement, not to mention a certain amount of disbelief at being so lucky.

“There’s only two more formalities we have to take care of?” Patsy said as they strolled under the arch of the railway bridge near Nonnatus House.

“What are they?” Delia asked.

“You need to have your check-up with Dr Turner…..”

Delia rolled her eyes.

“And…you need to phone your parents and tell them what’s happening.”

Delia’s excitement deflated like an old balloon at the mention of that particular phone call. She already knew what her mother would say and there would be crying to deal with. Nonetheless, Delia was determined to stand her ground and not succumb to her mother’s attempts at emotional blackmail. To live with Pats in their own place was what she wanted more than anything…. It was as close as they would ever get to being married….and now that they had been lucky enough to find a lovely place to live in, she wasn’t giving that up no matter how many tears were shed.

It was all very quiet in Nonnatus House. Those who were on duty hadn’t yet returned for lunch and those who weren’t working had planned outings for the day. They’d spied Sister Monica Joan out in the garden replanting some weeds that Fred had previously dug up and, no doubt, Sister Julienne was in her office taking care of the never-ending stream of paperwork.

“Go on, Busby,” Patsy urged, “call them now.”

Delia rolled her eyes to the heavens once more but knew it was probably best to get it over and done with. Procrastination wasn’t going to ease the situation so she headed for the phone and dialled the number which she knew off by heart as she had called them regularly like a loyal daughter should even though most conversations were the same and she'd had to pretend to be happy despite the fact that she was sick with loneliness and her heart was aching.

The phone was a relatively new thing in the Busby household. Up until Delia’s dice with death, they had managed without one but after the accident, Mrs Busby had insisted that they be connected so that she was immediately contactable should any of her ‘cariad’ need her in an emergency.

Delia listened as the phone rang once….twice…. three times. Maybe they were out.

“Hello, Busby residence,” Delia heard her mother’s voice say with that familiar Welsh accent. Tears began to well in her eyes. Even though she loved her life in London, she missed her family. She desperately wanted to be able to share with them her happiness at having found someone to love and live her life with but they would never understand or know the true nature of her relationship with Patsy.

“Hello, mum. It’s me. Delia.”

Patsy hovered anxiously in the kitchen. She didn’t want to eavesdrop but she wanted to be on hand if Delia needed her. She didn’t underestimate Mrs Busby’s ability to change Delia’s mind.

“Mum, I’ve got some good news….Patsy and I have found a lovely place that we’re going to rent…”

Patsy could see from the expression on Delia’s face that the news went over as well as they had  expected.

“Mum, don’t be upset….I’m fine…..I haven’t had a seizure in nearly two years.”

There was a long stretch of silence at Delia’s end of the conversation while her mother said what she had to say. Patsy moved closer for moral support.

“I will, mum…..Love you….give my love to dad too….Bye.”

“Well?” Patsy asked as soon as Delia had hung up, “how did it go?’

“Not as badly as I thought it would, actually….she was upset to begin with but she didn’t put up as much resistance as I expected but…”

“But?”

“As soon as she has a free weekend, she’s coming over to check the place out.”

“We’d better get that spare room set up in a hurry then, hadn’t we?” Patsy laughed, relieved that yet another hurdled had been set aside.

oooOooo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

By Monday, Patsy was back on the rota and Nurse Crane had assigned her to take care of the bookings for the week which was convenient as most days she finished early enough to have time to go and pick up the odds and ends she and Delia would need in their new abode.

On Thursday evening as Patsy came through the door with a bag of groceries under her arm, she literally bumped into Nurse Crane who was rushing out to attend to a mother-to-be.

As they stopped to straighten themselves out and check that the other wasn’t hurt, Nurse Crane asked, “Nurse Mount, I wonder if I could bother you to join me on this one. It’s Mrs Johnson. It’s her first delivery and she’s having twins…. An extra pair of hands would be very useful.”

“Of course….Let me put this bag of groceries in my room and I’ll be right with you.”

Patsy quickly climbed the stairs, dumped her bag of groceries inside the door and in a matter of minutes was in Phyllis’ car driving off to one of the poorer parts of Poplar to assist Mrs Johnson in the birth of her twins.

“We may need to call for an ambulance,” Nurse Crane informed Patsy as they wound through the streets, “Mrs Johnson has had high blood pressure in the latter stages of the pregnancy and now she’s gone into labour supposedly three weeks early.”

Having reached the address, Phyllis pulled her car to the curb in the space directly outside. The two midwives grabbed their bags and without the need to knock entered the tiny flat. Patsy could see at a glance that  the flat was made up of only three small rooms and held only the very bare necessities and any furniture they had was threadbare and second hand if not third or fourth hand. A pram and two small cradles lay in wait in the main living area.

Inside, a neighbour pointed them to a curtained off section of the main room which served as a bedroom. Behind the curtain, lying on the bed in a lather of sweat was a very young and very frightened Mrs Johnson. Helping to take care of her until the midwives arrived were two of the women who lived in neighbouring flats.

Patsy gave them a ‘thank you’ as they left Mrs Johnson in Patsy and Phyllis’ capable hands.

While Phyllis did all the initial checks – blood pressure, babies’ heart beats, amount of the dilation of the cervix and so on, Patsy held the girl’s hand…for that was all she was, a girl, no more than 18 or 19… and reassured her that everything would be alright.

“Are you expecting your husband home soon?” Patsy asked, thinking there was a more than likely chance they may need to send the girl to the hospital.

“What time is it?” the girl asked between sharp stabs of pain.

Looking at her watch, Patsy answered, “It’s just gone six o’clock.”

“That means he’ll be down the local having drinks with his pals.”

“Right,” Patsy replied, “Let’s see if we can get these babies out to show their father when he comes home.”

It was while Patsy was in the bathroom looking through the pitiful collection of towels for some that could be used that she heard the sound of a male voice….a strangely familiar male voice. Having found two towels that would suit the purpose, she turned to leave but was startled to find a man standing in the doorway blocking her way.

Much to Patsy’s shock, she instantly recognised him as one of the men from outside The Gates on Friday night. She could only hope that he had been too drunk that night to remember her.

“Mind if I wash my hands,” he said with a leering smile as he brushed past her close enough for Patsy to smell the alcohol on his breath, close enough that their bodies touched….a move that seemed to Patsy to be quite deliberate.

 “No, of course not,” Patsy said hurriedly as she went to leave but before she was out of the room he had grabbed her by the wrist.

“Don’t I know you?” he asked.

Jerking her wrist free of his grasp, Patsy replied with a sharp, “I doubt it.”

“Yes, I do….me and my mate, Dave, we saw you and your ‘friend’ coming out of that ‘women’s club’ on Friday night….you’re a ….I bet I could change your mind….You’re a fine looking woman.” He moved in closer, his hands reaching for Patsy’s waist.  Patsy moved back the one or two inches available to her.

“Oh, that’s right,” Patsy cut in as she batted his hands away, “you were with that woman who most definitely wasn’t your very pregnant wife.”

The man backed away a little, realising he didn’t quite have the upper hand he thought he had.

“It was Dave’s last night of freedom…he got married the next day….we were out having a bit of harmless fun….that’s all.”

The man chuckled at his little joke. Patsy gave him a look of sheer contempt. There was a loud groan from his wife in the next room.

“I wonder what they’d think if they knew you….”

“I wonder what your wife would think if she knew what you were up to. Shame on you, Mr Johnson. Your wife’s at home pregnant with your offspring while you’re out gallivanting on the town with other women.”

Patsy took a step to leave but the man blocked her off.

“If you’ll excuse me, Mr Johnson,” came the sound of Nurse Crane’s voice from the doorway, “Nurse, I could do with some help here, if you don’t mind.”

“Certainly,” Patsy replied, the relief was written on her face as the man moved away from the doorway and went to wash his hands.

“It’s going to be a long night, Mr Johnson. Why don’t you go and walk off some of that alcohol,” Phyllis suggested firmly leaving no room for argument before heading back to assist his wife.

It was the early hours of Friday morning when Phyllis’s car arrived back at Nonnatus House. Mrs Johnson’s delivery had been slow to start with but once things started moving, they progressed very quickly. The twins…two girls….had arrived safely and despite the premature birth they were in good health. However, as a precaution, Phyllis had sent Mrs Johnson and the babies off in an ambulance to St Cuthbert’s to receive the care she doubted the woman would get at home from her husband.

In consideration of their long night, both Nurse Crane and Nurse Mount were excused from duties for the rest of the day.

“Are you alright, Nurse Mount,” Phyllis asked as Patsy returned from the bathroom and was slipping into bed.

“I’m still a bit shaken,” she replied, “but I’ll be fine. It’s Mrs Johnson I feel sorry for though…what a horrible lech of a husband and now she has two babies to deal with as well….I doubt he’ll be much help….Maybe I’ll drop in on my rounds…when he’s not there, of course, and talk to her about the contraceptive pill.”

“Hopefully, the babies will bring her the happiness she needs because I have a feeling he certainly won’t.”

When Delia popped her head in about an hour later to see where Patsy had been the previous night, both women were sleeping soundly.

oooOooo

Although it had seemed like forever in coming, finally Saturday morning did arrive. After Delia had received a clean bill of health from Dr Turner earlier in the week, they were now free to move into their house and, as if an omen to their future, it was a glorious winter day with clear skies and crisp, fresh air. Today was to be the first day of the rest of their lives together and both women had great difficulty containing their eagerness. Delia had to do a short shift at St Cuthbert’s and wouldn’t finish work until 11am. Meanwhile, Patsy had seconded the services of Phyllis and her car to help take the last of their meagre possessions to the house.

Patsy also needed to be at the house for the delivery of the new mattress she had ordered. Much to her surprise, the delivery van had arrived right on ten o’clock as arranged, however, it took them a good half an hour of grunting and groaning, twisting and turning, sweating and swearing to haul the Queen-sized mattress up the narrow staircase, around the tight corner into the bedroom and finally lie it on the bed frame.

Once the mattress was in place and the delivery men had left (an extra pound in their pockets) Patsy made up the bed with new, crisp white sheets, a woollen blanket and the colourful, patchwork quilt she’d been given as a house-warming gift from the other midwives. Delia had been given a similar quilt for her bed too.

At midday, Delia and Patsy sat down at the dining table with the rest of the midwives and Sisters of Nonnatus House to have lunch although neither of them were terribly hungry such was their level of excitement. They picked at their food like sparrows and declined the offer of cake.  It wasn’t to be until almost an hour later that they stood on the front steps of Nonnatus House and said their good-byes, hugging friends or shaking hands with others, despite the fact that Patsy, at least, would be back there first thing on Monday morning and they would see Delia most lunch times.  To waves from their friends, they headed off up the street, the keys to their own place safely in the pocket of Patsy’s coat.

They had barely crossed the threshold and closed the door behind them when Delia drew Patsy into her arms and kissed her. It was a long and languid kiss and the first of many that day.

“I am so incredibly happy,” Delia said when their lips eventually parted, “I don’t know if it’s possible for me to be any happier.”

“Let me show you the new bed,” Patsy said innocently.

“Well, maybe I was wrong. Perhaps it is possible for me to be happier,” she answered with a mischievous smile as Patsy grabbed her hand and led her up the stairs.

Both women lay on top of covers of the bed, testing the new mattress for comfort and firmness.

“Just think, Pats, no more sneaking in and out of rooms every night. We can sleep together every night without having to worry if someone is going to see us or disturb us….no more surprise knocks on the door…”

To prove the point, Patsy rolled towards Delia, dipped her hand into her hair and drew their mouths together once more, kissing her tenderly at first but as the kiss deepened and Delia felt the warmth of Patsy’s tongue entering her mouth she couldn’t help an unrestrained moan of pleasure.

Suddenly there was a loud knock on their front door. Both women sat up in disbelief. Who could possibly be knocking on their door and why now of all times? Patsy looked at the time. Three o’clock.  She promptly rose from the bed and made her way downstairs with a confused Delia close behind her.

Patsy opened the door to the young man who had served her that morning a week ago at the music shop. He had with him what looked like a small suitcase. Patsy invited him in and directed him to a small table in the living room she’d set up near a power outlet. Delia watched on curiously as he then unwound a short cord from the back of the ‘suitcase’ and plugged it in. It wasn’t until he opened the case up that Delia could see clearly that it was a record player which he obligingly set up for them and ran through the instructions once more.

“What’s all this?” Delia asked once they were alone again.

“I thought we could do with some music in our happy home,” Patsy explained as she took out the three records she had also purchased and placed one of them on the player. As she moved the arm across the turntable, the record began to spin. Carefully, she dropped the needle onto the vinyl disc.

At the sound of the first few bars of Nat King Cole’s fingers tickling the ivories, Patsy encircled Delia in her arms and their bodies began to sway to its rhythm.

_“Let there be you,_

_Let there be me…”_

Delia laughed happily as Patsy whirled her around the room in time to the music then drew her in close again.

“I love you, Delia Busby,” Patsy said in a voice well above a whisper for perhaps the first time.

“And I love you,” Delia replied with a giggle as Patsy spun her around by the hand, first in one direction and then in the other then held her close as they kissed once more.

_Let there be cuckoos,_

_A lark and a dove,_

_But first of all, please,_

_Let there be love.”_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
